


A Letter of Lost Love

by ofthemoons



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Harry, Break Up, Louis is english, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Top Louis, harry is american, no smut really just mentions of it I guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:46:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofthemoons/pseuds/ofthemoons
Summary: For Harry's final assignment in a creative writing class, he has to write a letter to someone he's lost touch with. He writes a letter to Louis.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! The whole writing a letter thing was an actual assignment I did in college, I really enjoyed it and thought it was a wonderful idea! Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own, I do not own one direction or anyone affiliated with them blah blah this is a work of fiction. This little story has a second part that is in progress so expect more in the near future! I hope you enjoy it!

There are only two days left of class, and graduation is on Saturday, so Harry does not understand why he is sitting in this class listening to his pretentious professor drone on. His professor, Mr. Cline, mentioned at the beginning of the semester that there was no final in this class, and that they were not required by him to attend the last day due to not having a final. Now, though, he is going against his words and making it mandatory that all students come to class to turn in one last assignment.

“Why are personal letters so much more…personal, than an email or a text message or phone call?” Cline asks rhetorically. They all have learned that whenever he asks a question he does not expect an answer, it’s just his way of transitioning to whatever the next topic is or point he is trying to make. It’s quite annoying. Harry sighs, resting his cheek onto his fist, the monotonous drawl of his professor making it hard to focus on anything other than how much sleep he’s been missing the last few weeks.

“A personal letter is a gift and a historical document. It is a rarity these days for one to receive a personal letter. I do it all the time though, I have a select few people which I write letters to annually. I always start my letters off with what I am doing at that exact moment. _Dearest Nora, I am sitting at my table, with a cup of freshly brewed coffee and the radio is on, playing an old Elvis tune and it made me think of you…_. A letter let’s that person know you are thinking about them and that you continued to think about them throughout the entirety of you writing that letter, and putting it in an envelope and putting their address as well as a return address on it and paying for the postage stamp and placing it in your mailbox. A handwritten letter makes a person feel special, it is a gift that they can cherish forever. So, for your final assignment, I want you to write a letter to someone. It could be anyone from your neighbor to a relative…or! Even better, someone you have lost touch with over the past few years.” At those words, Harry’s attention heightens, he sits up and pays more attention. “I had a pupil once who hadn't spoken to her brother in twelve years, due to family drama. When I last gave this assignment, about three years ago, that pupil decided to write to her brother, to apologize and try to move on from water happened. She sent an email to me months later and said thank you, because her brother responded to that letter and now they talk and she met her six year old niece for the first time and their family is whole again, because she wrote that letter to him.” Harry’s heart rate picks up, one word running though his mind, it’s all he can think about. _Louis_. _Louis_ , who he hasn't spoken to in almost a year, the same Louis who showed him what it felt to be in love, and also the same Louis who broke Harry’s heart, after skipping out on him the morning after Harry whispered those three words to him in the aftermath of the most pleasurable and meaningful sex Harry ever had. Harry was going to write his letter to Louis.

Professor Cline continues to explain to the class that he will not read the letters as they should be turned in to him already sealed and ready to be mailed off and that he would provide stamps. He dismisses the class then and Harry quickly shoves his notes into his bag and rushes out of the lecture hall. He practically runs to his on-campus apartment and locks himself up in his room. He pulls out a sheet of paper and his favorite pen. He puts the pen to the paper and draws a blank. He doesn’t even know where to begin or what to even say. Is he writing this, expecting a response? No, he realizes, he’s writing this because he wants to get it all out of his head and onto paper. All of the questions, and things he never got to say he wants to put on paper and send it to Louis. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply and exhales slowly. He repeats this a few times before opening his eyes and dragging the tip of the pen across the paper. He starts it with describing his surroundings.

_Dear Louis,_

 

> _The sun is shining brightly, the clouds are wispy and white and scattered few and far between in the sky. I should be outside, enjoying this rare beautiful day in Philadelphia, but instead, I am sat at the old oak desk in my room, writing this letter to you. My creative writing professor assigned us one last project: to write a personal letter to someone and turn it in sealed for him to mail out. The only person I could think of to write to, was you, Louis. It has been 358 days since I last saw you and touched your skin, smelled your cologne. It has been 355 days since I last heard your voice, telling me that I can't keep calling you, that I have to forget about you. Almost an entire year, and not one day went by where I did not think of you. I have so many things to say, so many questions to ask. The most important one, the one I have asked myself everyday since I woke up alone that morning in May of last year is: Why?_  
>  _Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why didn’t you wake me up? Why didn't you answer my calls, my texts, my emails? Why did you suddenly drop off the earth? Why did you leave me? Why did you say those things to me when I called you drunk because I was scared and alone and you were the only person I wanted to talk to? Why did you break my heart?_  
>  _I broke my rules for you, Louis Tomlinson, and in return, you broke me. I loved you so much. How could I not? You stole the power from the sun and brought so much light and happiness into my life. Didn’t you feel the same? Couldn’t you feel the electricity every time your skin came in contact with mine, every time your lips brushed over mine? I know you could, because in the beginning, every gentle touch brought goosebumps to your skin, made the light blonde hairs on your arms stand up, your breath would hitch and your cheeks would flush. I know this because I felt that too, you had that effect on me, too._  
>  _When we first met, I was playing in Rose Grove and you approached me after my set ended. You told me how well I played and that you loved how I interacted with the audience, and set the mood for the set I was playing. I thought you were a scout, I really did and I should have noticed that you weren’t, since you were tipsy and you were wearing a hoodie and sweats, not professional at all. You laughed when I told you I thought you were a talent scout, and said if I was only agreeing to drinks because of that. I told you that no, I agreed to drinks because you were gorgeous and gave my ego a good boost. I said that even if you were a scout I wouldn’t have signed because that’s not what I wanted to do, I just liked to sing because I like performing for people and making them happy and have a good time. You said that’s a nice quality to have, and then asked for my number. I gave it to you happily, because I was already head over heels for you, even then, Lou. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you, you just felt right._  
>  _For our first date, you took me to the pet store and we played with three puppies before we got kicked out when it became clear we weren't seriously interested in purchasing a puppy. I remember saying how I wish I could take them all and save them from that horrible lady who kicked us out, and you said you didn’t have much money, but if you did, you would buy me all the puppies in the world if it would make me happy. I laughed, and then kissed you. Our first kiss. It was sweet and you tasted like mint-chocolate chip ice-cream._  
>  _The first time we made love, I was so nervous. You were my first, but I didn’t want you to know it because you were so sweet that you would have talked me out of doing it, somehow. So I pretended to know what I was doing, I tried to be sexy and seductive when I went down on you, and you were so sweet to me when I took you down too far and gagged. You just wiped the spit from my chin and kissed me before you opened me up. I think deep down, you knew that you were my first before I told you. The way you were with me was so soft and gentle, not like anything I’d ever seen in you before. You fucked me slowly and so sensually, you made me feel so much that I was crying when I came between our bodies. I still have the rose you gave me that night, when you picked me up for dinner._  
>  _The first time I knew for sure that I loved you, was Thanksgiving night. You were so nervous to meet my family, so nervous to have your first thanksgiving dinner, like it was some exotic food you’d never had before. I knew you’d get along with Gemma, you two were so similar it scared me, to be honest. And were so good with my mother, helping her set the table and insisting that you and I help with all of the dishes. We went to bed after that, bellies full and slipped into a food coma. You woke up before me, which was a rarity and you traced the freckles on my face and slowly, gently, brought me out of my slumber with feather-light kisses to my eyelids and the tip of my nose. Waking up to your beautiful face in my childhood home hit me hard, and it was then that I knew. I was in love. I never told you, because I felt like I fell too hard and too fast, I was so in love with you, that sometimes, it made my head spin. In that moment, I saw my future and saw you in it._  
>  _You told me three weeks before you left, that you had bought your plane ticket back home. We had been dodging and ignoring the inevitable. I knew in the back of my head that you had to leave at some point. But I never entertained the idea that it would be forever, that you would walk out of my life one day and never be back in it. Maybe it was naive of me to think that we would always be in each others lives. That night, our last night together, we made love for the last time. It was just as sweet as the first time, with a hint of bitterness and the saltiness from your tears. I wish I knew what was going through your head, did you already know that that would be our last time? Is that why you cried and held me so tight? When I whispered, for the first time out loud, that I loved you, did you pretend to be asleep because you didn’t feel the same? Because you knew it was worthless to acknowledge it, because you would be gone before I woke up? When I woke up that next morning, I was so confused. I was alone, and terribly hurt. You ripped my heart out of my chest and dug your heels into it, pressing it further into the dirt, and you just left it there in pieces for me to pick up on my own. I couldn’t believe that you could just leave me like that. That wasn’t you, you don’t to things that way. You hid and ran away. The Louis Tomlinson I knew faced his fears, said what he meant and didn’t hide. I’m not mad at you, not like I was in the beginning when it was still fresh. That is not why I am writing this letter. I’m writing this letter because I miss you so much, even after all this time. I can’t seem to get you out of my head, Louis Tomlinson. I am not expecting a reply from you. I am mainly writing this letter for my own needs, to put all of my thoughts and questions onto paper and clear out my headspace. I just thought you should know that I still think about you every day and that you will always be my first love, my first heartbreak, my first everything._

_All the love,_  
_Harry_

Harry signs off the letter and neatly folds it into thirds before placing it in a white envelope. He writes his home address as the return address and fumbles through the drawers in his oak desk until he finds the envelope sent to Louis from his sisters for Easter of last year. Louis had practically moved in with Harry within weeks of them meeting, Louis claimed it was because his roommate in the dorm was a prick, but Harry knew better. Some of Louis' things were still hidden around in Harry's room, tucked away in corners and shoved under the bed. Harry could never bring himself to throw it away, instead he kept the little things as keepsakes, to remember the burning love he had for Louis.

He licks the lining of the flap, pressing it down so it's completely sealed. He gently places it into his creative writing folder, making sure it doesn't get bent or folded and let’s out a large breath, feeling the tiniest bit of weight lifting from his shoulders.


	2. II

The few days leading up to Harry’s college graduation were hectic, stress-filled and flew by too fast for Harry to grasp. His whole family came up and stayed in a hotel right off of campus and called him every morning at eight to meet them for breakfast. His best friends since preschool, Alison and Mitchell surprised him to see him graduate. Mitchell joined the marine corps right out of high school and got stationed in North Carolina, and Alison moved to New York City with her boyfriend and the three of them haven’t all been together since the day of their high school graduation. Of course he’s seen them both individually. He stayed in New York with Alison and Micah for two days during a fall break. And when Mitchell’s wife, Lilly, gave birth to their second child, a boy named Wyatt, Harry finally saved up enough money to visit them and meet their two year old daughter Maisy as well. They keep in touch still, always updating each other on their lives in their group-chat. His mother reached out to them and set the whole thing up.  
Today was the Big Day, though. Harry woke up an hour early, wanting to squeeze in a run to clear his mind. He texted his family and friends that he would not be joining them for breakfast this morning. Gemma stayed over last night, because he needed someone to drop him off at the building were the graduates were to stand in, which was separate from the building in which the ceremony will be held, he also didn’t want to fight traffic and parking. He lets her sleep in for a little while longer and sneaks out for his run. The sky is gray, filled with heavy morning clouds and thick fog. The moisture in the air clings to the ends of Harry’s hair, making it curl upwards. It begins to drizzle when he reaches his building and he is thankful that the ceremony is being held indoors. He swipes his card to unlock the building and jogs up the three flights of stairs. Gemma is still sleeping when he enters his apartment.  
“Gemma…” He sings as he wakes his sister. She opens her eyes and pouts immediately.  
“Wake up, I’m about to shower. You can use the other one, we’ve got to leave in an hour.” He tells her and heads into his ensuite. He takes his time washing his body and hair. He let’s the warm water run down his body and rinse away the sheen of sweat he worked up during his run. He rinsed the suds from his body and the conditioner from his hair. Stepping out of the shower, he pats his body down with one towel and rubs his hair dry with another.  
Hanging on the back of the door to Harry’s room is his outfit, and his gown. A pair of fitted black trousers, and a pale blue cotton button-up dress shirt, embellished with embroidered roses along the collar. The garment was one of Harry’s favorite pieces of clothing, it was simple and beautiful and something so _Harry_. He can hear Gemma rustling around in the other bathroom, a hair dryer going and bottles and tubes clattering against the counter as she does her make-up.  
With soft music playing in the background, Harry dresses himself. He steps into a pair of small black, seamless briefs, and then carefully steps his left leg into the pants of his bottoms, trying not to mess up the wonderful ironing job Gemma did for him yesterday. He fastens a black leather belt on his waits to keep his pants in place, and then takes the dress shirt off of the hanger. He hums along to the music as he slowly buttons up the shirt, and smooths down the collar. He opted out of wearing a tie or bowtie, wanting to keep it a little simple.  
He grabs his gown and cap and walks out to the kitchen. He sits on a bar stool while waiting for Gemma to finish getting ready. Pulling his phone from the pocket of his trousers, he takes a picture of his cap and gown, and then posts it to his social media. He prepares four pieces of toast and spreads butter on them for him and Gemma. He receives “good luck” texts from Mitch and Ali, and a few from his college friends who already graduated and left for home. He responds to them all, a simple “thank you” and then puts his phone on silent.  
“Nervous yet?” Gemma asks when she enters the little kitchen.  
“Not really? I don’t think I will be. Except maybe when I’m walking up the stage. I hope I don’t stumble and make a fool of myself. But mostly, I’m just ready for the whole thing to be over.” Harry admits before taking another bite of his toast.  
“God, you _would_ be the one to trip while receiving their diploma. Oh, did mom tell you? She’s hired a photographer for you.”  
“She what!?” Harry exclaims, nearly choking on his breakfast.  
“Yeah, I don’t think I was supposed to tell you…but anyways, make sure you at least look happy and excited at all times! Don’t want to get caught with a frown or that weird face you make when you get lost in your head.” She says and pats his back. Harry sighs and continues eating his breakfast, washing it all down with a glass of apple juice.

The hall where the graduation ceremony is being held is warm and stuffy. The graduates are all being held in the halls, waiting for the Deans and academic advisors to all be introduced. They haven't had a practice run, which Harry thought was odd since this was supposed to be a big thing for everyone here. All they were told was to bring their name cards, and to write out how to pronounce their name as they walked across the stage. Harry had more practice and steps to follow for his high school graduation that half of his class didn’t even attend.  
Finally, the small orchestra began to play and they were told to begin walking and filling out the seats. In no particular order, very unorganized. There was a camera set up in the middle of the aisle, some kids making funny faces, a few dabbing. Harry just simply walks and does a small awkward wave, before turning to his left and sitting down next to the girl he followed in. He doesn’t know her name, doesn't think he’s ever seen her on campus before. He doesn’t know anyone he’s graduating with today, his friend’s graduation was held the evening prior.  
The ceremony goes by alarmingly fast, one moment Harry is sitting in his seat, with his hassle on the right side of his cap and the next he’s already walked across the stage, hassle turned to the left and a mock degree in his hand. Hardly a two hour long event. He didn’t even hear his family shouting for him when his name was called, he was too focused on chanting _don’t trip, don’t fall, smile, but not too big, you don’t want to look like a maniac…_ in his head as he ascended the stairs.  
Harry meets his family outside, he sees his mother first in the crowd, he smile wide and he can already tell she had been crying. His eyes start to water as well. Gemma spots him then, and begins to run towards him shouting and hollering and then jumps on his back.  
“You did it! Yay!” She shouts in his ear. Harry laughs and spins around in a circle, holding on to her legs tightly and shouts along with her. His parents finally catch up and he is smiling so big at his mother his cheeks hurt. She stops in front of him, watery eyes and wobbly smile and simply holds her arms out. He chokes out a watery laugh and tucks himself into her arms.  
“Congratulations baby, I am _so_ proud of you. I love you, Harry.” She says to him. He squeezes her tighter before letting go, kissing her cheeks and smoothing down her dark hair.  
“I love you too, mom. Thank you, for everything.” He tells her and turns towards the rest of his family and friends and accepts their congratulations and flowers from Robin.  
“How about some pictures now, with friends and family?” Ali suggests, pulling out her phone and aiming it at Harry. He laughs and hears her shutter go off.  
“Oh! This is Sara, she’s the photographer. I’m so sorry I didn’t introduce you earlier!” his mother says, laying a gentle hand onto the young girl’s arm.  
“No problem, I’m just here to be in the background and capture all those candid moments. Nice to meet you, and congratulations.” Sara says to Harry, shaking his hand.  
“Thank you,” He says, smiling kindly and hands all of his things to his Aunt Megan to hold while photos are being taken. He takes a plethora of pictures with his friends and family, his cheeks hurting from laughing and smiling so much.  
“Why don’t you go and take some of just you, honey?” Anne suggests after he’s taken a goofy picture with Ali and Mitch.  
“Sure, yeah. Um, actually there’s this one area that I really love on campus. It’s only a five minute walk?” He says, not sure if everyone wants to go along, just to watch him get pictures done.  
“Here, how about this. Megan,” Robin begins, turning towards Anne’s sister, “why don’t you go ahead and see if that restaurant has reservations, and if they do great, make a reservation. But, if they don’t, go ahead and drive there and put us on the list for a table for fourteen. Everywhere is bound to be busy, so we ought to get a head start getting our big group together. ‘Sides, not everyone needs to be there to watch Harry get photos taken of him, odds are we’ll just be in the way.” Robin says and everyone nods. His aunts, uncles and cousins all regroup and get into their respective vehicles.  
Robin, Anne and Gemma all stay back, obviously, and they follow Harry and Sara to the spot Harry wants his solo photo’s taken. It’s a small garden compared to the rest of the gardens on campus, but it has a white gazebo off to the side. Harry would come here often during his time at the college, with intentions of studying but he would be so relaxed sitting under the gazebo with the warm breeze against his skin, that he would end up daydreaming and putting together songs in his mind. It quickly became his getaway place instead of his study place.  
“Oh this is lovely. Would you like to take some pictures in the gazebo first, and then we can move out to the garden?” Sara suggests.  
“Yeah, sure, You’re the professional here.” He jokes and she laughs lightly, snapping a picture of him walking into the gazebo. He likes her style, likes how she also captures candid moments and not just fake smiles and portraits.  
“Your mother was telling me that you enjoy photography?” She asks him, snapping away.  
“Yes, I do it’s one of my favorite hobbies.”  
“Ever thought of making it more than just a hobby?” “No, I don’t think I could ever make a career out of photography. I love it, I do, but it’s more of an escape for me, something to do when everything else going on around me is too much. I just go out and take pictures of beautiful things to wash away all the negative.”  
“Well, I’m glad that photography is like that to you. What else do you enjoy? What did you major in?”  
“I majored in journalism. I’ve always been into fashion and music, but, I’m terribly clumsy and would always stick myself with the needle, getting blood on the fabric more than once, and I also have bad stage fright for singing to crowds over fifty people, I’ve learned from experience. So, since neither of those two were probable career choices, I figured I’d take the safer route and just write about the things I enjoy.” Harry explains to her while they descend the stairs of the gazebo and step further into the garden.  
“That’s nice. I could ever imagine a life stuck doing something I had no interest in. Photography is a hard career to make comfortable money in, for the first two years I worked two part time jobs on the side to help pay for my bills. But, I sold some prints at a local festival and once my name got out there a little more, it became easier to schedule sessions and build up a client list.” Sara tells him, adjusting the settings on her camera. She takes a few photos of him holding up his mock-degree in his gown and then she takes multiple of him in just his shirt and trousers in the flowers.  
“I’m afraid you’ve used up all of your time.” She tells Harry after a couple more shots. He stands up from the cement bench he was sitting on and dusts off his pants.  
“Such a shame. I was having fun being a little model there for a minute.” He jokes and she laughs, putting the sense cover on her camera and packing away the rest of her equipment.  
“Right, so I told your mother it’ll take about a week to sort them all out. I’ll email a few of them to her in a few days so she can get an idea of how they’ll look once they’ve been edited and touched up a bit, okay?” She explains to Harry as they walk back towards his waiting family.  
“Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you so much, Sara.” He says and shakes her hand once more.  
“Thank _you_. You folk were a lovely group to work with today. Congratulations again, and thank you Mrs. Twist. I’ll have a few proofs sent to you by Tuesday.” She says and then walks in the opposite direction.  
“Ready?” Anne asks him, linking her arm with his.  
“Yeah, god, I’m _starving_.” Harry says, placing a hand on his stomach, willing it to stop clenching on nothing.  
“Your Aunt Megan put us down but they said it would be a forty-five minute wait. That was only ten minutes ago. Do yo want to go back to your room and freshen up or would you rather just go straight to the restaurant?” She asks him.  
“Back to his rooms, I’ve had to pee the past twenty minutes!” Gemma exclaims.  
“Back to my room then,” Harry says.  
“Okay, we’ll meet you there. We’ve parked all the way at the opposite end. Drive safe, you two.” She says and kisses them both on the cheek before taking Robin’s outstretched hand.  
“You driving?” Harry asks Gemma as they walk towards her car.  
“Yup. You’re a terrible driver. I don’t trust you to get us to your room as quickly and safe as I could.” She says, pulling the keys from her bag and unlocking the doors. Harry rolls his eyes as he steps into the vehicle.  
“I think your ticket record begs to differ. I have a perfect driving record,” Harry says, sticking his nose in the air. Gemma snorts and shakes her head, cranking the engine and pulling out of the parking space. They beat their parents to the apartment building, so they just sit in the air conditioned car and wait.  
“Have you heard from him?” Gemma asks and she doesn’t even need to specify who she’s talking about. The only people who Harry told about the letter were Mitchell and Alison, because he kind of had a little breakdown after turning it in. He got drunk later that night when he began to pack his things. He never realized how much of Louis’ things had accumulated in his tiny little room. Clothes, shoes, his favorite pair of fuzzy socks and his zippo lighters. He also noticed a good half of his own wardrobe was nowhere to be seen, probably packed away in Louis’ luggage, and flown over to the other side of the world somewhere in England along with his broken heart. He got drunk that night, piled up all of Louis’ things in the corner and called Mitch and Ali, taking his anger and frustration out on them. Luckily for him, the next day he had to lock himself in a study room all day to prepare for his last exam. He had no room to cry over Louis or his own shattered heart and missing clothes.  
“No. No, I haven’t. Not since…yeah, not since he left.”  
“I just, I figured he’d have contacted you…congratulated you, y’know? He posted onto Jonah’s wall yesterday, I saw.” She tells him and her voice is sad and this day is supposed to be a happy day. But the fact that Louis is still in contact with Harry’s friends, congratulating them on graduating, when Harry was the one that introduced them in the first place, get’s a bit under his skin.  
“Oh.” Is all he says and Gemma gets the hint to not elaborate on the subject any longer.  
“I think I’ve just seen mom and Robin pull up, c’mon,” she says and cuts the engine off.  
Harry takes them up to his room and Gemma goes straight for his bathroom. Anne takes the bathroom on the opposite end of the apartment.  
“Have you got everything packed and ready to go? You have to be out by what time tomorrow?” Robin asks him, loosening his tie and sitting at the breakfast bar.  
“Basically everything is packed I just have to put the towels Gemma and I used this morning into the hamper bag but other than that yes, everything is ready to be loaded into the cars. I have to be out of here by ten tomorrow morning.”  
“Jesus, they don’t really give you anytime to move out. Hand you your little mock degree and want you out right after.” The man says, wiping the sweat from his forehead.  
“I know and I even had to apply for an extension, everyone else had to be out last night.” Harry tells him, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. He places his gown and cap back on the hanger he had it on this morning and lays the garments over his suitcase.  
“Well, might as well start moving things down to the cars, and then head to the restaurant.” Robin says as Gemma and Anne step out of the bathrooms at the same time. They all grab what they can carry, which surprisingly, is everything that was left. Harry had slowly began to bring things back home whenever he’d visit after spring break, and he was thankful that Gemma had mentioned that to him or else they’d have to cram everything into the three cars. But the rest of his stuff fits perfectly into the trunk of his mothers’ SUV.  
Harry drives his own car to the restaurant, his beloved Jeep Cherokee. The car is older than he is, has seen so many things in the few years Harry has been driving it. This car has seen his first hand-job, his first steamy make-out, his first heart-break. This jeep has taken him on so many adventures, he hopes that there are many more to share with this car, his first car. He takes care of it because he has so many memories with it that he doesn’t think he could ever part with it. There are just a few flaws, the car has typical wear and tear for it’s age but the miles are low, the upholstery is in mint condition, with a few scratches on the dashboard because Louis could never not put his feet up there and scuff the surface with his shoes.  
Harry sits in the parking space for a few minutes, mentally looking back on the past four years of his life, and how much has changed while all still feeling the same. It’s incredible how the world works, how over time it’s as if nothing has changed, but looking back, everything and everyone is so different in the now. Harry is older, wiser, and has more scars than his younger self did four years ago. His skin is thicker, heart more fragile, but he likes to think he’s stronger overall. He had to get to know himself better, had to learn how to put himself back together and be okay again. He’s taken out of his head when his mother knocks on the windshield of his car.  
“C’mon honey, everyone is seated and waiting for us,” Anne says and smiles warmly at him. He cuts off his engine and climbs out of is car, following his mother inside the bustling restaurant. Just as his mother mentioned, everyone is seated at the large table, glasses of water and baskets of rolls placed in front of them all.  
“There he is!” Mitch shouts and they all laugh and applaud. Harry blushes and does a small bow, before sitting at the seat left for him right in the middle.  
“Did you get everything packed up?” Ali asks.  
“Yeah, I didn’t have that much left and it all fit into mom’s trunk.”  
“That’s good. I bet you can’t wait to get back home to your own bed, yeah?” she says with a smile.  
“I don’t know, I’ve kind of grown a bit fond of that plastic, twin sized mattress.” Harry jokes, rolling his eyes playfully.  
“As if, I slept on that thing once, and I think it ruined my back forever.” Mitch says, absentmindedly rubbing his back. Harry cackles and shakes his head.  
“You were drunk and woke up saying it was the best sleep you’d gotten in months!” Harry exclaims.  
“Yeah, you forget the part where I had previously been sleeping on a ship in the middle of the ocean for nine months prior.” Mitch chuckles, shaking his head as he goes to sip his water. The table all laugh at the too of them bickering. The servers finally arrive, two of them needed for such a large party.  
“Hi guys, my name’s Hannah and this is Toby, we’ll be serving you all this afternoon. Alright let’s get started with drinks, and appetizers if any. I’ll start at this end, Toby at the other.” The girl, Hannah says. She pulls out her black writing pad and clicks her pen, placing the tip onto the sheet of paper.  
“If you would like to start, ma’am,” She says, nodding to Harry’s Aunt Megan.  
“Yes, I’ll have a sweet tea, this little one will have one as well,” she says, wrapping her arm around her daughter Callie’s shoulders. “And Rory will have milk, please.” She says, pointing towards Rory, Harry’s youngest cousin of only two years. He is adorable, dark blue eyes and black ringlets that spiral out of control all around his head. He even has the trademark dimple that runs through their family.  
Everyone places their orders for drinks, Harry ordering a piña colada because he feels like he deserves a nice refreshing alcoholic beverage. Conversation quickly picks up, Harry’s family has never been known to be quiet when they’re all together. More pictures are taken, on phones and digital cameras this time and even Harry’s beloved polaroid gifted to him from his Great Grandfather years ago. His Uncle Kevin has made it his purpose to be the photographer for the weekend.  
“Alright, now that everyone has eaten, I have a few things I’d like to say.” Anne says, after clearing her throat loudly to grab everyone’s attention. The table falls silent and all eyes land on her.  
“Harry,” she begins, already getting teary eyed, “first of all, congratulations on graduating college. I am so, _so_ proud of you, baby. I am so thankful to have been able to watch you grow from a small, goofy boy into a handsome, kind, young man. Ever since you were a child, you have always been so kind to people. You were so smart and wise from such a young age, I knew one day you were going to make something of your self. I’m so glad the world and cruel reality of it hasn’t broken you, hasn’t made you a bitter person. But I knew deep down you wouldn't let that happen. You were always too strong to let little things make you lose hope because you always chose to see the good in every situation. I just hope you know how good of a person you are, and that if you just work hard enough, you could do and be anything you wanted in life. Know that I will always support you, no matter what. You will always be my baby, Harry. Congratulations.” She says, dabbing the corners of her eyes. Everyone’s eyes around the table are wet, smiles are wobbly. Harry gets up from his seat and rounds the table to his mother.  
“I love you so much, mom. I am who I am today because of you, so thank you. Thank you for all that you have done for me.” Harry says to her and then brings her in for a tight and teary hug.

Harry has been home for fourteen hours and he already feels like he never really left. His room is the same as it was on the day he left for college. Same white comforter, same yellow sheets, same posters and pictures hung up on the walls. He has more things to add, things he’s collected during his four years away. He’ll get to those boxes later though, because he can smell bacon and eggs cooking and he is absolutely famished.  
“Good morning, honey. Some bacon’s already on the table.” Anne greets him. Apparently he is the last to rise, because everyone else is already at the table, all of their plates full of crumbs.  
“It’s alive!” Gemma screams in mock horror as Harry takes a seat at the large dining table.  
“Yeah yeah yeah,” He mumbles, nibbling on a piece of perfectly cooked bacon.  
“Ready for the busy day today?” Mitch asks him. Today they were having a barbecue for his graduation. The whole neighborhood was invited, apparently. Gifts and cards were piled up in the front room and some decoration set up already. Harry kind of regrets not choosing to do a small family trip to Disney like Gemma did for her graduation, instead he let his mother set the whole thing up because he “didn’t really mind, whatever she felt like doing,”. And apparently, she felt like throwing a huge party, the entirety of his family and the neighborhood invited, it seems.  
After breakfast, set up for the party begins. Harry makes himself in charge of setting up tables and chairs out in the back yard, he wanted to stay away from the actual decor. He tends to get frustrated with streamers when they refuse to hang the way he wants them, so he just left that for his mother and Uncle Tony.  
Once all of the decorations are set up and the food is delivered, people start to show with gifts in tow. Harry’s family have always been well known around the neighborhood and in their small town. Harry was a little charmer when eh was younger, always talking the people at bakeries into giving him a free cookie, always offering to walk people’s dogs and tend to there gardens when they left for vacation. So, it’s really no surprise at the number of people that turn up and how they all have stories to tell about Little Harry while he was growing up.  
“I can’t believe our little Harry Styles is all grown up and graduated college. Now, are you going straight for work or are you going to take some time for yourself, dear?” Mrs. Graham asks him. She owns the flower and gourmet chocolate shop Harry worked at one summer during high school.  
“I’m in no rush to jump into a career. I kind of want some time to myself, like you said. I was thinking of traveling around a bit, but I don’t know. I miss being home so it’ll be awhile before I decide anything.” He tells her, shrugging and smiling kindly.  
“Well, it is no rush dear. You’re young, you should have fun.” She tells Harry and pats his shoulder. “I ought to snag myself one of those pastries the bakery catered here, before they’re all gone!” She excuses herself and heads towards the food table.  
“Harry! Honey, come open your gifts!” Anne shouts across the yard, standing next to the table full of gifts, but mostly cards. Harry was never a fan of opening his presents in the presence of the people who gave them to him. He feels like he never puts enough emotion and excitement into his face and he’s always been horrible with hiding his true feelings. Gemma once got him a G.I. Joe doll when he wanted the red power ranger and ended up making her cry because she knew as soon as Harry opened it he didn’t like it. He hopes he’s gotten a little better, at least.  
“Alright dear, this first one is from Mitch and his family.” She says, handing over a small pink bag with a plethora of pink and yellow tissue paper falling out of the top.  
“Maisy and Wyatt had a little fun with the tissue paper,” Mitch says with a fond smile of his face, speaking of his two children. Harry has never met them,  
“It looks lovely,” Harry promises, before he reaches into the bag. The first thing he pulls out is a homemade card, consisting of lads of glitter, stickers and crayons. One side has five stick figures, with the names _Harry, Daddy, Mommy, Maisy_ and _Micah_ written underneath each figure, obviously in a young child’s handwriting. The other side of the card is a mess of colorful swirls, translated to _”Congratulations Uncle Harry, Love Micah”_ in the bottom corner. Harry gets a bit teary eyed. He hasn’t seen Maisy and Micah in over a year now, and he’s surprised that Maisy remembers who he is. They do FaceTime a lot, but still it’s one thing to see a face on a screen versus in person to a young child.  
“You’ll have to tell Miss Maisy and little Micah that I loved the card and that I hope to see them very soon.” Harry tells Mitch, who raises his glass to him. Harry reaches back into the bag and takes out an Eno, wrapped tightly in it’s royal blue and emerald green sack.  
“This is sick, mate! I’ve been bugging mom for one for a while now, have you ever used one before?” Harry asks excitedly.  
“Not a legit Eno but a few buddies of mine had the parachute riggers fix us up some homemade ones when we went camping. Figured I’d go the safer route and buy you a real one, with a bug screen. Yours is a double nested one, by the way. So you can fit two people in it.”  
“Thank you so much. Tell Lilly and the kids thank you as well.” Harry said, getting up to give Mitchell a tight hug. Harry opened the rest of his gifts from friends and family. He received a ton of money, all of which he planned to put right into his savings, also a few notebooks, journals and camera and film equipment. He was very grateful for it all, and he let everyone know just how much.  
The crowd cleared, everyone went home and his extended family all returned to their hotel rooms for the night, as they had a long journey home the next day. It was late at night now, the cicadas singing loudly in the humid night air. Harry quietly sneaks out of the house and ventures into his backyard that his mother, over the past four years, has turned into some dream garden. There’s a gazebo towards the back of their property that sits in front of the lake. His stepfather built it when Harry was in middle school. Harry had so many memories in that gazebo, it was just far enough away from the house that when Harry smoked pot for the first time he didn’t have to worry about his mother or stepfather catching the scent as they lit the bowl. He had his first kiss here, it was one of Gemma’s friends named Sophie, during a party Gemma threw while their parents were gone. Harry then got sick because he realized a girl kissed him and he didn’t like it because all he thought about was how Gemma’s boyfriend Dan’s lips would feel against his, wondered if his beard would irritate the gentle skin of Harry’s mouth. So it was also there that he realizes he wasn’t interested in girls, but in boys.  
Harry thought about telling Louis he loved him, out loud and for the first time in the gazebo. Louis had joined Harry on his trip home for spring break, instead of going to Florida along with he rest of their friends. They had only a few weeks left together before Louis was leaving and they wanted to spend as much of that time together as possible. It was their last night in Harry’s home town. The air was warm and the gentle birdsongs were a perfect lullaby to the end of their little vacation. They had been watching the sunset over the lake at the end of the Styles’ property and Harry looked over at Louis when it got dark. His skin was glowing, illuminated by the fairy lights strung around the gazebo, and the moon reflecting off the silver lake at night.  
Harry knew he was in love with Louis, had known since November. But he’d always been too nervous to say it out loud, he felt he fell too hard too soon and never found the perfect moment. But that moment had felt perfect, and just as he had opened his mouth to say it, Gemma called for them from the porch. It was time for dessert and his mother had made his favorite pie for their last night. Louis looked over at Harry with a soft, private smile and held out his hand for Harry to grasp. Harry had just sighed and took Louis’ hand in his, leading them back to the house.  
So, he makes his way over to the gazebo and sits down, rests his head against one of the supporting pieces of wood. The wood is splintering and the white paint chipping away. Maybe Harry will go to the hardware store and rent a sander and buy a gallon of paint, touch it up a bit. A project like that will help him take his mind off of things and help pass time. He’s in no hurry to jump into a job, wants a little time to himself and to not have to worry about anything for a while. He’ll probably go back to work for Mrs. Graham just to have spare money and something else to occupy his mind.  
His initial plans after graduation were to do a bit of traveling. He’d always wanted to go to Europe and photograph all of the beautiful architecture there. Louis had gotten his hopes up in that Louis would travel with Harry, and show him around Europe. Louis bragged about how he was a well traveled man, having been to France at least twice a year and Spain every other year for Christmas, and little weekend trips to other countries throughout his childhood. Harry still wants to travel to Europe, but he doesn't know how he’ll cope being in the same country as Louis. He doesn't trust himself to do something stupid like plug in Louis’ childhood home address into a GPS and show up demanding answers and possibly an apology while also telling Louis how much he still loves him despite how shitty he treated Harry in the end.

Harry ends up falling asleep in the gazebo, only waking up from an alert on his phone. It’s a snapchat from Kayla of her dog reacting to seeing her. It’s cute and sweet, the dog clearly so excited that it cries and can barely contain it’s body, wriggling about. He closes the app, turns his phone on silent and heads inside to his room. Eager to sleep in his bed and not wake up to a schedule or any commitments. 

Harry sleeps through breakfast, waking up a little after eleven. He walked downstairs, knuckling sleep from his eyes, only to find the house empty and quiet. He heads back up to his room to check his phone. A text from his mother, saying that they all went down to the dock and that there was breakfast in the microwave for him. After reading the message, he goes back downstairs, pops open the microwave and eats the bacon without even reheating it up. While he’s crunching away on cold bacon, he notices how much he enjoys the quietness of the house.  
It feels nice not having anything planned, no priorities to keep in check. He picks up Nova, the family cat who wanders in and out of the house as she pleases, and buries his face in her long black fur. She’s warm, must have been outside sun bathing, it is her favorite hobby, after all. She rubs her face under his chin and up and down his neck, purring lightly. He squeezes her gently and places her back down on the ground. She mewls grumpily and winds between his legs as he tries to walk, clearly not pleased with the lack of attention now.  
Harry takes a shower and then begins to unpack his boxes from college. The big boxes containing the small amount of kitchen tools and appliances goes right into the attic, since he has no use for any of it. He doesn't want to throw any of it away though for when he eventually moves out. He spends the better part of the day unpacking and organizing.  
He never realized how much clothing he actually owns, multiple button up shirts, and an even larger and embarrassing amount of sweaters. His t-shirts are all old and wrinkly and most have holes but he just cant bring himself to throw any of it away. He has a thing for keeping things that have memories. Harry is in the middle of choosing which pictures to hang up on his wall when his mother calls for him.  
“Harry, honey!” She shouts and he hears the bustle of the rest of his family coming in the house behind her. He gets up and walks to the head of the stairs, too lazy to go down them to see what she wants.  
“Yes?” he calls back to her, still flipping through a stack of photographs. “Something came for you in the mail…” She says and she sounds unsure, and possibly a little concerned. Harry frowns and slowly descends the stairs.  
“It’s not like spam mail for a credit card is it?” he asks as he makes his way down.  
“No, honey it’s…just come see for yourself.” She says and that makes Harry a little worried. He meets her in the kitchen, and his brow furrows deeper when he sees her expression. She looks at him and then down at the envelope in her hands. She hands it to him wordlessly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He takes the white envelope from her and flips it over to see who it’s from, and when he does he nearly faints.  
His knees go week, he has to clutch the side of the counter to keep himself vertical. All of the air in his lungs rushes out of him as if someone punched him in the gut, which is exactly how he feels right now. He’d never thought this would happen, he never expected this. There, in the top left corner where the return address is, are two words. A name.  
_Louis Tomlinson_.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry folks, I've been a bit lazy!   
> Any and all mistakes are my own*

Harry nearly drops the envelope after reading who the letter is from. _Louis_. Louis Tomlinson wrote Harry a letter. _Fuck_.  
“Harry?” His mother whispers, placing a gentle hand on his bicep. He looks up at her wide, concerned eyes, and then back down to the envelope in his trembling hands. His vision is becoming blurry from the tears that begin to pool in his eyes. Harry looks back up at his mother, before he quickly turns on his heel and runs up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He gets to his room and slowly shuts the door, looking down at the envelope again in disbelief. Harry doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t know what to feel. His heart is racing, blood thrumming in his veins. He’s crying now, tears hot as they slide down his cheeks. His breath is ragged as he tries to calm himself down and hold back the sobs.  
Quickly, he locks the door and heads to his bed, climbing underneath the comforter, getting comfortable. He slides his finger under the slip, breaking the seal. Inhaling deeply, he takes the folded paper out of the envelope and unfolds the multiple sheets. He blinks the tears away, as best as he can. For a moment, he just stares at the papers, not focusing on the words, but on the handwriting, at the words scratched out. Some words were blurred, possibly from Louis’ hand swiping across before the ink could completely dry. Harry buries himself further under his blanket and begins to read.

_Harry,_

_To say that I was shocked, when I got the call from my mother that I had a letter waiting for me at home, well, that would be an understatement. Shocked, yes, but also scared and guilty but also hopeful, for some strange reason that I do not know. I do not live with my mother back in Manchester anymore. I live in London now, and for the chance that maybe you will want to write me back, incase you do not want to talk over the phone just yet, or don’t wish to pay the long distance fee, at the end of this letter, I will put my new address in the city along with my phone number and email, since that is what I most frequently check. I hope I do hear from you again. I am so glad that you reached out to me, because I was too much of a coward to do it first. I want to apologize to you, Harry. It is all I have ever wanted to do since I left you that morning. I would rather do it in person, not written in a letter, but I guess for now, this will have to do. Leaving your beautiful, peaceful, sleeping self that morning was the hardest and also dumbest thing I have ever done. I regret it terribly. But I knew if I didn’t leave right then and there, I would have done something that, at the time, I had believed to be stupid, like ask you to come with me, to spend the summer with me and meet my mother and my siblings. Or that if you were to ask, I would have stayed with you. I would have dropped my luggage and crawled right back into that bed with you, curled up behind you and soaked up your warmth. The truth is Harry, is that night before, when you whispered those words to me, it scared me. _You_ scared me, from the first day I met you and even now. Because I knew I was in deep, and I would have given anything and everything up to be with you. We fell into each other’s gravity hard and fast, all at once. There was no slow burn, or build up. From the moment we met, we hit it off so perfectly, I was already halfway to head-over-heels for you. Then, you said those three words, and that scared me shitless, Harry. It scared me more than anything else in my entire life. I was young, you were even younger, and I felt like we both still had so much to do and see in the world. I know I’m just listing what probably seem to you as excuses, but I can’t explain to you the cocktail of emotions that washed over me when you told me you loved me. I just want you to know that it was never your fault. You were perfect, you were everything I could have ever asked for and more, and I just let it all-let  you \- slip right through my fingers when I snuck out that morning. I haven't gone a single day without this sinking feeling in my stomach every time I think of that voicemail you left me, or the texts you sent. Sometimes, I wake up from a silly dream and the first thing I think of, is to tell you about it. But when I turn over, you’re not there. The left side of my bed is cold and empty and there is no one to blame but myself. I’ll hear a song on the radio that you would sing at Rose Grove and it will hit me so hard, remembering how I let something so perfect go. I’m so sorry Harry. I still think about you everyday, too. If there is anything I can do to make things right between us, tell me and I will do it. Anything. _

_Sincerely,  
_

_Louis_

Harry turned over the last sheet of paper, and looked at Louis’ new number and address, he quickly puts the contact information into his phone, filing it under Louis’ old contact. He’s not quite ready to _hear_ Louis’ voice, and Harry has always been a person to keep things with meaning. So, he’ll just write Louis another letter, so he can keep them and go back and read them. He cant go back and read a phone call or a half-assed impersonal text message. Like his professor said, a hand written letter shows that a person has taken time out of their day, uninterrupted, specifically for you. But right now, he’s not in the state to write out a coherent letter. He needs to completely gather his thoughts and possibly reread Louis’ letter a few times before he can figure out what he truly wants to say.  
There’s a soft knock at his door. His mother’s voice is soft as she speaks through the hollow wood. “Harry, honey, is everything alright?”  
“Yeah, m’fine.” He mumbles, throwing the covers off of his warm body and getting up to unlock his door. He opens it and immediately turns away to go back to his bed, doesn’t want his mother to see the tears. She follows him into his room, softly shutting the door behind her. She quietly walks to the side of his bed. Harry just looks up at her with sad, round eyes, and she knows.  
“Oh, baby…” She coos and pulls Harry into her arms. He sighs deeply, snuffling a bit and wrapping his arms around her waist.  
“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asks him.  
“It’s nothing, I’m just…being dramatic, you know me.” He says and sighs again. “He wasn't mean, well, to me at least. What he wrote gave me the image that he is hurting himself, not like…physically but mentally, for…for y’know, leaving. The way he did. He feels bad.” “Well, he should feel bad!” She scolds and Harry sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry honey, I’m just being angry _for_ you. What does that make you feel then, that he feels bad about leaving you?”  
“I don’t want him to hurt himself. What he did was shitty yeah but what he wrote in that letter, when he sort of explained why he did it, it makes sense. You’ve always told me I have a way about people, that I can make a lasting impact them, that I can be a little much at times? Well…I guess I was like that with him? I-I told him I loved him, mom. The night before he left we were…y’know and then right before I fell asleep I just…said it, quietly.” He takes a minute to gather his thoughts and breathe properly. He’s not crying anymore, but it hurts to bring up the pain from a year ago. “He didn’t say anything,” Harry continues, “I didn’t think anything of it, because I kind of startled myself. I mean, I knew I loved him-was in love with him, for a while. But I was too scared to ever say it. And, I guess I had just felt so much that night, scared of him leaving, since we kind of avoided talking about it, that I just said it because I wanted him to know how I felt before he left. But, I guess me saying that scared him. We’d only been together a little over half a year, but it was all so much. Even _I_ couldn’t believe how hard and how fast I fell for him. So, now that I’ve heard his side I guess I can understand why he did it. But, it still hurts.”  
“Oh, baby, of course it’s going to hurt. He was your first love. You’ll remember him for the rest of your life and no one else will ever be like him and no other love will be like the two you had. But, you’ve got to move on at some point. You’ve got your closure, from his letter, yeah? Why don’t you go out and explore and travel like you were going to do. Go meet interesting people in obscure places, have fun and be young! Move on, dear.” She says and he chuckles lightly at his mother basically telling him to go out and fuck random men in foreign land.  
“But I don’t want to move on. I don’t think he does either. In the letter he also said that he wants me to write back, wants to stay in touch. He gave me his address-he lives in London now- and he also gave me his phone number and email. I guess he’s pretty busy, since he said he only ever really checks his email.”  
“I just don’t want you to be hung up on this boy anymore, Harry. Ever since he left you’ve fallen into this stump, and you've not been one-hundred percent yourself.” Anne says, pushing his hair from his forehead. He ought to get it trimmed soon, the ends are getting long again and curling up at his neck.  
“I know, but. I mean he feels the same way I do. And I just…I don’t think the love we shared should be wasted. What we had mom…you know, you saw it when he came home with me. What we had was special and I think I’m willing to try again someday.”  
“You’re wanting that, based off of what you’ve read from _one_ letter?” She asks with disbelief and concern heavily coloring her voice.  
“ _Mom_. I know what you’re thinking, that I’m silly and young, but-”  
“And you are correct! Harry, I understand exactly what you’re saying, but maybe…maybe you should just take things slow. Go on your trip, like you were going to after graduating. Clear your head and live a little, now that you’ve finished school. Then, maybe once you’ve got yourself a little figured out and back to normal, maybe then you can think about patching up whatever is left between you and Louis.”  
“Alright. Yeah. But, I’m still going to talk to him.” He adds the last part stubbornly, pouty with arms crossed on his chest and all. Anne huffs at him and rolls her clear green eyes.  
“Of course. I can’t make you do or not do anything darling. I can only hope that you will choose what is best for you. I love you, you know?”  
“Of course I know. I love you, too, mom. Thank you.” He tells her and kisses her cheek. Anne pets his hair and kisses his temple before she stands up from his bed.  
“Dinner will be done soon, if you’re feeling it.” She tells Harry before closing the door behind her on her way out of his bedroom.  
Harry plops back against his pillows, letting out a large breath. His mind is swimming. He folds the letter up and puts it back inside the envelope, then shoves it underneath his pillows.  
He’s already started forming a plan for his trip. His last stop was always London, but now he might spend more than just four days there. He digs his laptop out from one of his boxes and plugs it in to bring it back to life. He spends the rest of his night looking up flight prices to Spain, and the cost of traveling Europe by train. He doesn’t purchase a return flight ticket. Which is both scary and exciting all at once.

 

The next few days are hectic for Harry. He is planning on leaving for his Backpacking-Across-Europe Trip, as his sister dubbed it. He leaves in mid-July, and tells his mother he’ll be back by September, but never gives her an exact date. He hasn’t responded to Louis just yet. There is a sheet of paper, half filled out in Harry’s blocky scrawl, sitting on his desk in his cramped bedroom. Louis told Harry to tell him what he needed to do to make things better. Harry has been playing around with what to say in his mind, almost constantly since reading Louis’ letter. He’s almost positive he knows what he wants to say, just having trouble wording it the right way. He doesn't want to sound too desperate but he also doesn’t want to come off as not wanting any type of romantic relationship with Louis in the future. Which is why the paper on his desk has been left untouched the past two days.  
Harry has a surprisingly busy schedule today for a Tuesday. He goes in to the floral shop at seven to open up the shop. His shift is only five hours long, and after that he has a lunch date with Gemma and her boyfriend. Harry was unaware that she had a boyfriend until a few days ago, when his mother asked Gemma how a “Colin” was doing. Turned out this Colin was some boy who has been pursuing her the past three months. Gemma never mentioned him, because _“they were just seeing where things were going for now.”_. Harry still refers to Colin as Gemma’s boyfriend, because he knows how much it annoys her.  
After his lunch date, Harry has to stop by Jim’s and pick up all the film he dropped off to be developed and run other errands in town. Then, Robin is having his coworker and his family over for dinner. Harry promised his mother that he would help her with dinner and make his special white cake for dessert.  
He starts his day off with a nice cool shower, never too hot and never too cold. No one is home at the time so he gladly belts out a few stellar choice songs, taking advantage of the acoustics of the bathroom. Going downstairs, he quickly scrambles a few eggs and slices up some fruit. The weather is too warm to have the energy to cook or eat anything too heavy.  
He locks up his home after double checking that he has the keys to the shop, before hopping in his Jeep and cranking the engine.  
Harry’s hometown is a quaint little borough, about forty-five minutes from Philadelphia and twenty from Trenton. The borough consists of stone farmhouses, a few small suburbs, and a main street lined with taverns, unique little shops and restaurants and an ACME store on the outskirts of town. The town itself has quite a bit of history, many of the buildings were built pre-WWII era and are still standing in nearly perfect condition.  
The floral shop Harry works at is located on the main strip, right between the farmers market and the local pizza joint, with gray stone walls and a pretty, rich emerald green door. He inserts the front door key and unlocks it, quickly walking over to punch in the code for the alarm system. He spends about five minutes getting himself and the shop situated, watering and trimming a few plants, counting the till, before flicking on the lights and turning over the sign to read: OPEN.  
The shop doesn’t ever get too busy with customers inside, it’s mostly taking orders that keeps him occupied. Sara comes in at ten to start with deliveries and to start making more chocolates. Overall, it’s a steady day and, before he knows it, he’s clocking out and walking behind the building to his car.  
Harry quickly responds to Gemma’s texts, reminding him of their date and threatening him if he makes her look bad by being late. He shakes his head at her and tells her he hasn’t forgotten and is on his way. She responds, telling him that they are seated out in the back area.  
Harry pulls up to the restaurant, a quaint little shop tucked away and hidden behind various overgrown plants. He clips his keys to a belt loop and opens the door. The swinging motion of the door wafts the delicious scent of herbs and spices directly at Harry, and he inhales deeply. He has never been to this restaurant before, but he is already impressed.  
“Hi! Welcome to Indochine, how many?”  
“Um actually, they’ve already been seated-”  
“Oh! Right, your sister, yes?” Harry nods, “Brilliant, if you’ll just follow me,” She says, gesturing for Harry to follow her. She leads him towards the back of the restaurant, to a door with thick red and gold curtains and pauses before speaking. “They should be sat just to the right of the pond! Enjoy!” She tells Harry, holing the door open for him.  
“Thank you,” He tells her, stepping out into the immaculately designed backyard of the establishment. It’s really beautiful, all stone path and perfectly potted plants. It does have a decently sized pond, with a bridge over it, fairy lights hung all around. There’s little dome-covered booths to sit under, but Gemma and Colin are sat at a table with an umbrella looming over it.  
“There he is!” Gemma says, quickly jumping up and meeting Harry halfway. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and squeezes him tightly.  
“A minute later and we’d have ordered without you!” She hisses and Harry rolls his eyes.  
“I’m on time…you’re just early, as usual.”  
“I know, I’m just messing with ya!” Gemma jokes and whacks her hand against his stomach lightly. She turns back to the table, where a boy, presumably Colin, is standing, smiling kindly at the siblings playful interaction.  
“Right…Harry, this is Colin. Colin, this is my annoying little brother, Harry.” She says, trying to play it off but Harry could hear the slightest trembling in her voice. Harry reaches his hand out and smiles kindly at the boy.  
“Hello, nice to finally meet you,” Harry tells him, shaking his hand with just the right amount of firmness.  
“Yes, so nice to meet you as well, Gemma’s always talking about you.”  
“As if,” Gemma scoffs with a roll of her eyes. Colin shakes his head at her and winks at Harry, who shrugs as if to say he’s used to it. They all take their seats and browse through the menus. Harry ends up ordering some noodle dish, Gemma a green curry and Colin orders the peppered steak, which was Harry’s second pick.  
They sit and chit idly while they wait for their meals to arrive. Harry gathers that Colin is as close to perfect for Gemma as one could get. He doesn't get offended by her snarky remarks, and can give sarcasm back just as fast as it is served to him. Overall, he seems to be a great guy. Harry is relived to see his sister settle down with someone who has their life together and visibly cares and adores his sister.  
After their plates have been cleared and the bill has been paid -Gemma insisting on paying-, they go their separate ways. Gemma and Colin head back to his apartment and Harry goes on to finish the rest of his errands for the day.  
With a belly full of delicious food, Harry makes his way across town to Jim’s. He comes to the small building at the end of the strip, with it’s white, brick exterior and glossy black door. He steps inside, the small bells above the door jingling brightly as he makes his entrance. A plump, jolly looking man behind the counter looks up from the book he was previously buried in and a smile spreads across his face.  
“Ah, Harry! Was wonderin’ when you’d stop by!” Jim greets Harry, closing his book and sliding it off to the side. Harry smiles brightly at him, having grown fond of the older man after coming to the shop for repairs on cameras and developing all of Harry’s film throughout the years.  
“Just got off work, actually. I was going to call but I figured I’d just surprise you,” Harry says and winks. Jim chortles and shakes his head at Harry.  
“Be right back,” Jim tells Harry before disappearing behind the black curtain behind the front desk. He comes back seconds later with a folder and sets it on the surface of the desk. He carefully slides out all of the photographs for Harry to see.  
“Wow, these turned out exception, as usual! Thank you so much, Jim!” Harry exclaims as he looks over his photographs. They are mostly pictures from Harry’s graduation that he made Gemma take of him, and then some of his party at home, and of course multiple of his family’s beloved cat, Nova. She is quite the photogenic cat, always very cooperative with Harry when he’s in one of his inspirational moods.  
“Of course, of course!” Jim says and takes the pictures back. He gently places them back into the folder, closing it up and handing it over to Harry. Harry pays and gives his thanks to Jim once more, before leaving and heading back to his car down the street.

 

It isn’t until later that night, while Harry is lying on his bed, staring up at his ceiling willing himself to fall asleep, that his mind wanders to the unanswered letter. He looks over at the letter, and slowly sits up on his bed. He waits, counts to five slowly, before standing up and walking over towards his desk, flicking the small lamp on and pulling out the chair. He sits down, and re-reads Louis’ letter to him. Moving almost involuntarily, Harry reaches for his pen and notebook, turns to a blank page, and begins to write.


End file.
